Highway 62

In October of 2001, I flew from London to Los Angeles and drove a rental car through the desert states of the Southwest to Marfa, Texas, and back again. I slept in cheap motels and took photographs of what I saw along the way. It was a trip that changed my life and was the beginning of a body of work that culminated in my 2018 photo book, Diesel Fried Chicken. I spent the first night of that trip in Joshua Tree, California. The next morning I headed east on Highway 62 and started taking pictures. After driving one hundred miles of desolate highway through the harsh desert landscape, I came across a mysterious tree, standing alone, loaded with shoes, bits of trash, and a ragged American flag. I took a picture of the tree and drove on. Two years later, having moved to New York City, I was on the road again, driving east on Highway 62, wondering how the shoe tree might have changed. What I found astonished me. The tree was stripped of foliage, blackened by fire, and weighted with many more shoes, shreds of clothing, worn out tires, and a rusted back axle. The tree looked to be dead but had a strange beauty. I took another picture. I continued taking road trips, building the body of work, and exploring the American road. Another two years passed and I thought I’d take another look at the shoe tree. The tree was gone. I found a pile of dirt and debris where it had stood. A few tires and the old axle lay nearby. I took another picture.